


TeenFly 02 - Train Heist

by mystictimelord



Series: TeenFly 'verse [2]
Category: Firefly, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-10 03:15:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2008827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystictimelord/pseuds/mystictimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles walked out of the infirmary the moment he spotted Isaac.<br/>“Hey, Isaac,” he called behind him. “Do you know where Derek is?”<br/>And as if on cue, the airlock opened just as Derek, Boyd and Erica were stepping in. They looked a bit beaten, some of their clothes torn in places, a blood smear here and there. It was more than evident that they were in a fight.<br/>“What the hell happened to you?” Stiles blurted out.<br/>“Unification war reenactment,” Derek answered. “And we got ourselves a job.”</p>
<p>A.k.a.: Teen Wolf charactes in Firefly's 'The Train Job'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Infirmary, Camaro

**Author's Note:**

> **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN FIREFLY OR TEEN WOLF** , beacuse if I would, then the Serenity crew would still be flying and Sterek would be offically canon a long time ago.
> 
> If there are any grammatical mistakes, HERE IS YOUR PERMISSION to warn me about them. I'll fix them as soon as I can.

Lydia woke up from her nightmare, screaming in inhuman pitches, making Stiles, Jackson and Deaton, who were in the infirmary with her, shut their ears. Only when she stopped, have they gathered around her to try to calm her down.

“It’s okay, Lydia,” Jackson tried to assure her, “it’s alright. You’re safe.”

“Hey Lydia,” Stiles tried now, “you remember any of us?”

Lydia now looked straight into Stiles’ eyes, her face being that of annoyance.

“Stiles,” she motioned at him. “Jackson,” she nodded in his direction. But looking at Deaton, she just said “Not a Sheppard.”

“His name is Deaton,” Stiles corrected her while pointing at him, “and he’s actually a Druid. He’s been taking care of you while you were sleeping.”

“Were you dreaming about the Academy?” Jackson asked out of the sudden.

“Not relevant,” she muttered in response.

“If you can talk about what happened there …” Deaton continued. “I know it’s hard, but the more we know, the more we can help you get better. I promise.”

Stiles walked out of the infirmary the moment he spotted Isaac.

“Hey, Isaac,” he called behind him. “Do you know where Derek is?”

And as if on cue, the airlock opened just as Derek, Boyd and Erica were stepping in. They looked a bit beaten, some of their clothes torn in places, a blood smear here and there. It was more than evident that they were in a fight.

“What the hell happened to you?” Stiles blurted out.

“Unification war reenactment,” Derek answered. “And we got ourselves a job.”

20 minutes ago

Derek, Boyd and Erica were sitting in a typical small-town border-planet bar; small, disreputable place that is probably housing brisk yet low-key business. Most people are up to something they don’t want for others to know about. Despite the dark wood and clutter suggesting Western influence, the bar is obviously multicultural; bellydancers all around and everyone dressed differently, but none of ‘em fancy.

Speaking of bellydancers, one of them was approaching Derek’s table. The three people at it were playing a game of Chinese checkers (falsely called so since they’ve been invented in Germany in 1892). She approached Derek and slipped a piece of paper in his hand that he put behind his back for that particular purpose.

“Your move,” Erica informed Derek.

He moved a piece.

“That’s a bold move,” Boyd observed.

“I like to live on the edge,” Derek explained.

His cockiness flew out the window when Boyd made a far better move.

“Nice work, you idiot!” Erica pointed out to Derek.

“Well,” Derek tried to explain, “I _have_ given some thought to moving off the edge. It’s not an ideal location … maybe a place in a midd-”

“A TOAST!” a man at the bar, barely holding himself up, using the bar counter as a support.

“A toast,” the man tried again. “Since we all know what today is …”

Derek and Boyd were stone-faced as they knew what was going on.

“What day is it?” Erica asked worriedly. She had no idea, at least until …

“The Unification Day! A glorious day for _all_ of us. The end of Triskeliates and the dawn of the new galaxy! Yea-huh!”

Derek downs his shot and stands up to walk to the bar.

“Just gonna get a refill, nothing to worry,” Derek assured them as he turned away.

“It’s _that_ time of the year, isn’t it?” Erica asked Boyd, who in response nodded in agreement.

When Derek got to the bar, he asked in his best Chinese (which was very good, by the way) for a refill.

“ _Qing zailai yi bei Ng Ka Pei?_ (May I have one more glass of Ng Ka Pei (medicinal herb wine), please?”

The man that previously gave his speech, turned to him.

“You gonna drink to the Hunters with me?” he asked.

Derek didn’t look at him.

“Hang on, you didn’t toast with us!” he exclaimed in shock. “I think you’re one of ‘em Triskeliate scum.”

“And I think that you weren’t burdened with an overabundance of schooling,” Derek countered. “So why don’t we just ignore each other ‘till we go away, eh?”

The man snapped and punched Derek in the face. He wasn’t even fazed.

“Drunks are so cute. Aren’t they, Boyd?” Derek asked looking over the man’s shoulder. The man looked where Derek was looking only to be greeted by Boyd’s large fist in his face. His nose was fractured on impact.

But apparently that wasn’t the best move, as seven other men circled them.

“Hey Erica,” Derek shouted at her. She was still sitting by the table.

“A little help here?” Derek asked her.

“I haven’t fought in any war,” Erica argued. Lifting a glass of her drink, she added: “Best of luck, though.”

“Oh, _zhe zhen shi ge kuaile de jinzhan_ (this is a happy development),” Derek muttered under his breath. “Boyd, let’s do this!”

15 minutes later

“Scott,” Derek called through the radio. He was standing next to Camaro’s airlock with Boyd and Erica. “Can you open the airlock?”

“ _Hey, Derek,_ ” Scott replied. “ _Why are you back so soon?_ ”

“We ran into some local color,” Derek explained, “but we have a new job. So, if you could open the airlock … that would be cool of you.”

Before you could say werewolf, the hiss of the airlock made it clear that Scott heard him.

When the airlock fully opened, they all stepped in. He saw Stiles standing next to Isaac, both of their faces a mix of relief and worry.

“What the hell happened to you?” Stiles blurted out.

“Unification war reenactment,” Derek answered. “And we got ourselves a job.”

Infirmary

“This isn’t home,” Lydia said.

“We can’t go home, Lydia,” Jackson explained. “If we go home, they’ll send you back to the Academy. This is safer now,” he showed around, “we’re on a ship.”

Lydia stood up and walked to the closest wall, to which she leaned her ear. After a couple of seconds, she spoke in trance-like state: “Midblulk transport, standard radion accelerator, classcode 03-K64, ‘Firefly’.”

“Well, that’s something,” Derek said, looking genuinely impressed as he entered. “I can’t even remember all that.”

“Lydia, this is our captain, Derek Hale,” Jackson told Lydia, pointing at the captain.

“You can call me Derek,” Derek said to Lydia.

She looked at him like she was doing a full-body scan. “Werewolf,” she finally deadpanned, not even slightly scared.

“How did you …?” Derek asked.

“The voices told me,” she explained as if she just told him that two plus two is four.

“Well, you better tell me if those voices tell you of any danger, _dong ma_?” he asked her.

She nodded in return. He nodded back in thanks and walked out of the infirmary.

“Derek,” she muttered. “Gifted ruler. In Archaic English.”

* * *

“You have lovely hair,” Allison said as she took care of Isaac’s hair. “I’m sure that Scott would agree.”

“He does,” Isaac replied lazily. “He even mentioned that I looked like a Greek god.”

“That’s sweet of him,” Allison responded with honesty. “I guess we can leave your haircut the way it is.”

“Do you ever do this for your clients?” Isaac asked.

“Almost all of them,” Allison answered. “But not all my clients have enough hair for a brush.”

That earned her a laugh from the blond werewolf.

“I heard that some bald men have awfully hairy backs,” Isaac said.

“Let’s just say that hair has the tendency to migrate south,” Allison explained.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking this,” Isaac started, “but have you ever had to service a really hideous client?”

“The Companion law states that every companion chooses her or his own clients. Then again, the physical appearance doesn’t matter that much; we look for spiritual compatibility. There’s an energy about people that is very difficult to hide, and you just try to feel all that …”

“And then you feel the energy of their credit account,” Derek mocked Allison’s profession as he walked in. “It has a sort of aura …”

“What did I say about barging into my shuttle?” Allison said after schooling her expression to one of calm.

“That it was manly and impulsive?” Derek suggested.

“True,” Allison admitted, “but what was the exact phrase, again?”

“Don’t,” he deadpanned. “You’re holding my mechanic hostage, and Isaac, can you explain what happened in the engine room? Did something explode again? Have you and Scott been doing the nasty there?”

“One time!” Isaac exclaimed. “And even then I wasn’t exactly a part of your crew. Anyways, I had to rewire the grav-thrust, because _someone_ won’t replace the gorramn compression coil!”

“Well,” Derek tried, “I ain’t paying you to get your hair played at, so I’d appreciate if you could clear out the engine room. It’s dangerous in there now!”

Isaac stood up, nodded a thank you to Allison and walked out of her shuttle grumbling out “ _Kewu de lao baojun!_ (Horrible old tyrant!)”

“We work before we play,” Derek replied, letting Isaac know that he heard the comment.

“You servicing the crew now?” Derek asked Allison.

“In your lonely, pathetic dreams,” Allison replied coldly.

“How would you know what I dream about?”

“Didn’t know that you did. What do you want?”

“We got a job.”

“Congratulations. I don’t suppose this job would be on a decently civilized planet where I could screen some respectable clients?”

“Respectable clients? Seems like a contradi-”

“Don’t you dare start _that_ one again.”

“We don’t have the location, but we’ll be docking on a skyplex. It’s run by a Gerard Argent.”

“Never heard of him.”

“I have, and while we’re there, you’ll be confined to the ship.”

“Is he afraid of Companions?”

“Gerard has a very infamous reputation. If he’s got work for me, fine, but I’m not sure you’d be safe.”

“I’ll die of shock! Derek being a gentleman?”

Derek now turned about to step out of her shuttle when he turned around to ask her if: “You’ve got time to do my hair?”

“Out,” she pointed to the shuttle door, and Derek surprisingly did so.

Now that he was alone, she had time to process everything.

_What kind of a bad reputation_ does _my grandfather have?_ she thought to herself.


	2. Gerard's office, the skyplex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, but this chapter is a bit on the short side.

Derek, Boyd and Erica were walking through the corridors. They weren’t walking alone; they were escorted to Gerard’s office by two armed goons. As much as they could easily take them down, they didn’t – they wouldn’t get the job if they did.

Once they’ve reached the office doors, one of the goons knocked on the door. In return, the door was opened by a large, mean-looking motherfucker, who was covered in tattoos. He was staring at them all until an old man’s voice made its way through to them.

“It’s fine, Crow, they can come in.”

When they entered, they saw the infamous Gerard. He looked old, his white hair balding and giving his hair the ‘bald eagle’ look to them.

“Which one of you is Derek Hale?” Gerard asked.

“That would be me,” Derek said. “I’m the captain, this is my second-in-command, Boyd,” he pointed at him, “and this is Erica,” he pointed at her.

“Very nice,” he replied. “As you may know, I’m Gerard Argent. You’ve met Crow, my good Right Hand.”

“We got word that you may have a job for us,” Derek explained their presence.

“Oh, yes, an exciting job – a train!” Gerard exclaimed with glee. “It has something I need. You guys ever worked a train before?”

“We hit a few,” Derek replied.

“Are you going to ask me what is it that I need?”

“As a rule, no.”

“That’s good. A man if good reputation. ‘Getting the job done without complications’ is what I’ve heard of you.”

“Glad to hear that,” Derek replied to the comment.

“Do you know what makes reputation?” Gerard asked. “It’s people talking, gossip, but you can’t really grab it with your hands. I believe you know that I also have reputation, just not as pleasant as yours.”

Now, Gerard looked to where Crow was standing.

“Crow, if you could show them …”

Crow didn’t need no hear anything more to understand what he meant. He opened the doors to another room. In it, there was a dead man – it was very clear that he died of hideous torturing.

None of the three didn’t like to look at it, but the message became much clearer as Crow dragged the body out.

“Now, my reputation is no longer gossip,” Gerard explained. “That man didn’t do the job. If you manage to successfully pull off this job, then your reputation will be just as solid as mine is.”

“Right …” was what Derek could mutter out at that moment.

“Do you understand why he’s dead?” Gerard asked, checking if they’re on the same page.

“He died because he didn’t do his job.” Yep, definitely on the same page.

“So, about your job,” Gerard moved on, walking back to his desk, from which he picked up a piece of digital paper, on which train schematics were now shown.

“Here,” Gerard pointed, “in the fifth car. Two boxes with Hunters’ goods in them. Given your reputation, you don’t mind taking from them. You’ll get on train here, at Hancock,” he pointed at the map, “heading to Paradiso. You’ll be given a cover story in case of questions, but I don’t think you’d be bothered. Get the boxes before the train reaches Paradiso, then deliver them to Crow here,” he now pointed at the map, just a bit outside of Paradiso.

“You’ll get half the money now,” Gerard continued. “Crow will give you the other half at the rendezvous. If anything goes wrong, then I’ll assume that your reputation is just gossip, and things between us will not be so solid, _dong ma_?”


	3. Regina

Derek and Boyd were taking the train-ride from Hancock to Paradiso. They were dressed in civic clothes and were sitting in a crowded car.

“How long until we hit Paradiso?” Derek asked Boyd.

“In twenty minutes, I think,” Boyd answered, “but we should be at the foothills in five.”

“Best get to work, then,” Derek said, standing up and walking to the end of the car.

Boyd was following him, walking next to him.

“You know that Gerard is a psycho, right?” Boyd asked him out of the sudden.

“He’s not the first psycho that hired us,” Derek explained. _And certainly not the last_ , he thought by himself.

“It’s just that I’ve got an image in my head of that dead guy,” Boyd stammered.

“Any I’ve got an image of it not being me,” Derek replied. “Now, let’s do this.”

Once they were out of their car and about to go into the next one, he added: “It’s a simple job. We’re simple folk, therefore it shouldn’t be a problem.”

When he finished that sentence, he opened the doors to the next car and saw the entire of it filled with Hunters’ soldiers/cops. They were facing the both of them and Derek and Boyd couldn’t do anything else but to stop and stare.

At least until Derek spat out a “Hi.”

Dining room, Camaro

Allison entered the dining room, only to find Deaton sitting at the table and reading out of one of his books. Among the words on the cover, she could only read out _homo lupus_.

“Hello, Deaton,” she greeted him kindly.

“Good day to you too, Allison,” he greeted back.

She now made the way to the kitchen part of the dining room and preparing herself something to eat.

“So,” Deaton started, “how do you think it’s going?”

“Do you mean the captain’s ‘job’?” she asked, but answered immediately with “He knows what he’s doing.”

“How long do you know him?” he asked her.

“I’ve been on this ship for eight months so far,” she replied, “but I don’t think I’ll ever actually know Derek.”

“To be honest, I’m surprised that a respectable Companion, such as yourself, would sail with this crew.”

“It’s not always this sort of work,” Allison replied. “They just take the jobs they can get; even the legitimate ones, because further you get from the central planets, the harder things get. And this is just a part of it.”

“I wish I could feel less useless right now,” Deaton admitted.

“You could always pray for their safety,” Allison suggested.

“I don’t think your captain would like me praying for him,” Deaton explained.

“Then don’t tell him,” Allison implied. “I never do.”

Regina

Derek and Boyd were still standing in front of the Hunters and needless to say, there was awkward silence for a couple of beats.

That is until the door on the other end of the car opened and an immigrant-looking family was walking their way. The werewolves took that opportunity to move as well, heading toward that door, passing the family. A couple of Hunters eyeballed them, but no comment was made from either of them.

Once they were in the next car, they looked around and saw nothing but immigrant families just like the one that passed them. They made sure they were out of earshot before whispering to one another.

“Is there some information we might be lacking?” Boyd whisper-asked. “Such as why is there a whole Hunter squad on this train?”

“Doesn’t concern us,” Derek whispered back.

“Kinda concerns me,” Boyd admitted.

“They weren’t protecting the goods,” Derek explained. “If they were, they wouldn’t be letting people past ‘em.”

“So you don’t think it changes our situation at all?” Boyd asked.

“I know it does,” Derek admitted. “It makes it more fun.”

“You sure you haven’t misplaced your brain somewhere?” Boyd asked sarcastically.

“If we stick to the plan, we get the goods and we’re back on Camaro before the train reaches Paradiso,” Derek explained, “only now we do it under the noses of twenty trained Hunter feds. Hell, if I knew what this job was, I’d do it for free!”

“Can I have your share?”

“No.”

“If you die; can I have your share then?”

“Yes.”

Cargo bay, Camaro

Isaac opened the bay doors and started dragging some cables and winches, ready to attach them to the walls.

That’s when Stiles appeared.

“Hey there,” he greeted Isaac for the second time today.

“Oh, hey …”

“Call me Stiles,” he offered.

“I’ll call you that then,” Isaac agreed.

A couple of beats of silence pass between them.

“So, what are you guys doing?” Stiles asked.

“Oh, just crime,” Isaac said.

“Crime,” Stiles repeated.

“A train heist,” Isaac explained. “We fly over the train-car, Derek and Boyd sneak in, then we lower Erica onto the car, bundling up the booty and haul it up. Easy as lyin’.”

“And you guys have done this before, right?” Stiles asked. Isaac could smell genuine interest, opposed to disapproval that he expected from someone whose father was a sheriff.

“Never,” Isaac admitted, “but I think it’ll work, because the captain’s _zhen de shi tiantsai_ (an absolute genius) when it comes to plans.”

“Is there anything I could do?” Stiles asked.

“You could stay the hell out of everyone’s way,” Erica roared from behind them. She was dressed in multiple layers and had a hat, and a scarf over her face. It’s gonna be windy.

“There’s no need to be snappy, Erica,” Isaac tried to assure her.

“I’m sorry; are you about to jump onto a moving train?” she mock-asked. Apparently Isaac’s assuring didn’t help.

“Anyways,” she continued, “since Derek’s not around, I’m in charge.”

“Since when?” Isaac asked.

Ignoring him, Erica turned to Stiles.

“Just because you’re onboard, that doesn’t make you a part of our crew,” she told Stiles. “You just figure out what’s wrong with that moon-brained girl of yours ’till we call for you, _dong ma_?”

“Right,” Stiles muttered out before turning around and going away from her.

Isaac couldn’t believe her.

“How can you be so rude to him?” he asked her.

“Simply; I can.”

“You shouldn’t; he left his life behind to save his friend. And now he has to run away from the law.”

“Well, we could all stop running from the law if we handed her to the Hunters.”

“Tell me you’re joking!”

“We would all be rich, then. Besides, I know that Derek is thinking of doing it.”

“That’s not funny.”

“He’s not stupid. Why would he take her in if there was no profit from it? I know Derek’s got a move he hasn’t made yet, you’ll see.”

But what they didn’t know was that Lydia was sitting on the catwalk. She was watching them since Stiles’ conversation with Isaac; and she heard everything.


	4. Still on Regina

Derek and Boyd were at the door, on which ‘STORAGE. NO PASSENGERS’ was written.

“Gerard’s resources better be good,” Derek said as he pulled out a keycard that he inserted.

The door opened slightly, just enough for someone to slip through. Derek checked if the car is safe enough to continue with their mission. Seeing nothing that would concern him, he opened the door more and motioned to Boyd that it’s safe.

Once both of them were inside, Boyd prepared the gas-bomb, just in case something went wrong. He fiddled with it and attached some wire to it before placing it at the bottom of the doorway.

Meanwhile, Derek inspected the car in more detail. He can only see various crates and some baggage. Seeing the crate that Gerard wanted, he stepped to ie stepped the crate that Geraar in more detail. He can only see various crates and some baggage. Seeing the crate that Gererdt and pulled out a powerful-looking screw gun from the bag that he carried. Positioning the screw gun to a rivet on the crate, he pulled the trigger and drilled until the rivet was stuck on it. He pulled the gun back up and pulled the rivet out before moving on to the next one.

Apparently, Boyd was done with the gas-bomb, as he was searching through some other boxes. Ripping a tarp of one of them, it revealed two big metal crated with the Hunters’ flag printed on top of them.

“All hail the Hunters’ reign,” Boyd announced mockingly.

Cargo bay, Camaro

The hatch in the cargo bay opened, letting in daylight and a shitload of wind, which wasn’t that surprising since Camaro’s speed had to match up the train’s. Once the hatch was fully open, Erica got down and crawled to the edge of it to see how far below the train is. Her estimation was around 20 ft. and everything was moving really fast.

Too fast for her liking.

She gave a nervous thumbs-up to Isaac, who was just as bundled up and tied on as she was. He hit a lever on a winch and started letting out the cable _slowly_ as Erica jumped.

She shouldn’t have done that.

Because she jumped, she overwhelmed the winch with the sudden force of it and broke it off, resulting in …

Regina

… crashing through the roof of the car in which Derek and Boyd were.

They were all paralyzed for a couple of seconds before Erica bellowed a “You’re dead, Isaac!” into the radio.

“We don’t have time for that!” Derek informed her. “Help us with the crate!”

But little did they know that a Hunter fed heard the crash and was moving to their car to inspect the noise.

Cargo bay, Camaro

Isaac couldn’t believe what just happened. _Why the_ hell _did she jump?_ he asked himself. _Why the_ hell _did she jump when she was told to just lean in? Why doesn’t she ever listen to him, or anyone else who isn’t Derek or Boyd?_ Also, _why did that winch break?_

Questions aside, he had a problem: how to repair the winch in under one minute so it would hold the trio of werewolves _and_ the crate?

Time to use his mechanical genius.

Looking around, he noticed the dolly-truck with which they usually transport heavy stuff, like Jackson’s cryo-box. He knew that if he managed to pull the rope out of the winch and tie it to the dolly-truck, then the only thing that was left was for someone to drive it.

That gave him another idea.

“Stiles,” he shouted over the radio, “could you come down here and help me out with something?”

Regina

The trio of werewolves were trying their best to attach the crate with the hooks as fast as they could. Surprisingly, they’ve done it in 15 seconds flat, opposed to a minute they estimated, which was wasted because of Erica’s crashing. You go, Erica!

“ _Derek,_ ” Isaac shouted over the radio, “ _I’ve got some bad news and good news,_ ”

“Let’s hear them,” Derek responded.

“ _Well,_ ” Isaac continued, “ _the bad news is that Erica broke the winch when she decided to jump off instead of leaning in as we’ve practiced. The good news, however, is that I’ve made a makeshift winch that should support all of you and the crate, but it will take me two minutes to make it work._ ”

“Best get to work, then,” Derek concluded.

About a minute later, a Hunter fed opened the door and was met by gas in his face so he couldn’t see anything. He shot a few shots in their direction.

That only meant one thing.

Boyd shouted “Go!” at Erica, who in turn shouted a “Go! Go now!” to Isaac over the radio. Lucky for her …

Cargo bay, Camaro

… the makeshift winch was ready for use.

“Now, Stiles!” Isaac shouted to him.

That meant for Stiles to hit the gas pedal on the dolly-truck and drive forward, which he did. The makeshift winch was apparently build sturdily as it didn’t break off or something, and Erica appeared with the crate! Oh, joy!

But where were Derek and Boyd?

Regina

Derek and Boyd were still in the car of the train, and now they had a Hunter to deal with.

Piece of cake! He was unconscious by a solid punch to the face, courtesy of HaleTM.

And that was their cue to get out of the train car and back to their seats. But that meant passing the cars with poorer passengers and Hunter feds.

They rolled a couple of gas-bombs among them so they could sneak through. And they’ve done it with flying colors! No-one suspected anything, even though they had to improvise a bit.

Making themselves comfortable in their seats, they now waited for the train to arrive to Paradiso.


	5. Paradiso, Regina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the shortness of this chapter.

The train stopped at Paradiso and many passengers were climbing off it, Derek and Boyd included. They managed to eavesdrop on a conversation between a Hunter fed and a local sheriff.

“Our man didn’t get a look,” the fed explained to him.

“Well, Jesus,” he exclaimed, “can someone at least find out what they took?”

Turning to his deputy, he added: “Pendy, keep these people together! And quiet ‘em down!”

Derek would’ve eavesdropped further, if it weren’t for the group of families and children passing them. They looked (smelled, more like) sick and they clearly wanted something off that train. Then a person walked up to them and probably told them something very shocking, because the next thing that happened was that the women started crying and clutching their children closer to them.

Focusing back on the conversation, he heard some shocking news from the deputy.

“It was the medicine.”

“The medicine?” the sheriff asked. “How much of it?”

“Every ounce. There was none left.”

“God help us,” was the only conclusion the sheriff could come up with at the moment.

Boyd looked at Derek in misbelief, but he could only see the stone-face that Derek usually plasters on his face when thing get tough.

“That son of a bitch …” Derek finally muttered under his breath.

Unknown Hunter cruiser, space

“What’s the fuss,” an officer asked the ensign who called him over to check something.

“I received a network alert,” the ensign explained. “Cargo theft of a medical shipment, lifted off the train in Georgia system that was en route to Paradiso.”

The officer took a good look at the screen now.

“Pasceline D, two crates of it,” he read out. “It could earn quite a lot of money on the black market.”

“Paradiso’s a mining community, sir,” the ensign continued with his explanation. “Most of ‘em are afflicted with Bowden’s Disease, and the miners pass it on to their children most of the time.”

“And yet they insist on breeding,” the officer muttered under his breath.  Then, in his normal voice, he continued: “Just tag it as received and bounce it back. The locals can deal with it.”

“But, sir,” the ensign continued, “there was a regiment holding in Paradiso. They were on the train and were headed to the installation.”

“Then get ‘em back on the train and get it moving,” the officer almost roared. “Who’s holding them there, anyway?”

“The sheriff,” the ensign replied. “He requested the deployment of a few of our ships to help him with inve-”

“Those are Federal Marshals,” the officer almost roared again, “not local narcotic hounds. They have better things to do.”

Turning away, he concluded with “And so do we,” and walked away.

Cargo bay, Camaro, Paradiso

“Where are Derek and Boyd?” Isaac asked Erica.

“They got left behind on the train,” Erica explained. “We were discovered by a Hunter fed, but it’s nothing that they couldn’t handle. Also, Scott,” she turned to him, “could you explain why aren’t we parked on our rendezvous spot?”

“Because I declare it a new one,” Scott replied.

“Gerard’s men are waiting!” Erica bellowed. “They don’t like to be waiting!”

“Then let ‘em read a magazine or somethin’,” Scott remarked. “We’re not making this sale until Derek and Boyd are on board.”

“But what about the authorities?” Jackson asked out of the sudden. “We’re sitting here with stolen Hunters’ goods. Won’t they be looking for us?”

“If they pass this canyon,” Scott answered, “we’ll hear ‘em before they ever see us. I think we’re good fo-”

“Won’t stop. They’ll never stop.”

Everybody turned to Lydia now.

“They’ll keep coming until they get back what you took.”

She laughed softly by herself despite her eyes screaming out fear.

She was muttering something under her breath, but Stiles was able to figure out what she was saying.

“ _Five by five, the Alphas thrive._ ”

“ _Five by five, the Alphas thrive._ ”

And she was constantly repeating herself now. Stiles couldn’t help but to try his best to calm her down.

“Back to the problem at hand,” Erica tried to steer the conversation back on its tracks. “If Gerard doesn’t get the goods on time, we’re dead.”

“Hold on,” Stiles cut in. “Are you talking about Gerard _Argent_?”

“How do you know him?” Erica asked.

“Sheriff’s kid, remember?” he replied a bit mockingly, but continued with: “If what I heard from my dad is true, then I think we’d be better off being a little late.”

“Fine,” Erica gave in. “But we’ll wait _just_ for a while longer.”


	6. Police station, Paradiso

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting! Here's a bigger chapter than the previous ones.

“This is a nightmare.”

Derek and Boyd were sitting stiffly next to eachother. Boyd hummed in agreement, but added: “Nothing points to us _yet_.”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” Derek replied.

Around them, the whole place was filled with activity, almost buzzing with it. The understaffed constabulary was working its way through questioning the train passengers as fast as possible to find the culprit. Or in this case, culprits.

And as if they didn’t feel bad enough about their crime, some sick women with children passed the werewolves. Derek forced himself to look away, looking at the sheriff, who was questioning a couple. He heard him thanking the couple and watched as they took their luggage and exited.

“Whatever happens,” Derek said, looking at Boyd, “just remember that I love you.”

If it weren’t for the current criminal situation, Derek would’ve laughed, because Boyd was staring at him in confusion.

“Because we’re married,” Derek explained, paired with his Eyebrow Movement No 2 – the ‘I’m hinting at something here’.

“Oh, right,” Boyd exhaled, finally realizing what Derek meant. “Honey.”

Wow, wasn’t that awkward for them.

“Car 3, row 12,” the sheriff said as he approached them. “Mister and Missus … Raymond?”

“We’re both misters here,” Boyd corrected the sheriff.

“Right,” the sheriff replied.

“Can you tell us what’s going on?” Derek asked, doing really well at faking worry. “We’ve been here for so long. Did someone on the train get killed?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” the sheriff assured them. “I see here that your fares were purchased by a third party …”

“My uncle,” Derek cut in. “A wedding gift.”

“A honeymoon in Paradiso?” the sheriff asked, sounding as if the idea seemed absurd, or even crazy.

“Actually, we’re here looking for work,” Boyd provided.

“Is that so?” the sheriff asked yet again.

“My uncle said that he knew a Joey Bloggs out here,” Derek continued. “Said he might have an opening. We thought we could try our luck.”

“Either of you miners by trade?” the sheriff asked.

“Not really,” Derek replied.

“To be honest, I’ve never seen any folk choose this life if they weren’t born into it,” the sheriff stated, sounding surprised.

“Work is really scarce these days,” Boyd replied, “especially for a couple just starting out.”

Now, Derek picked up enough courage to ask the sheriff: “How come there’s so many sick here?”

“Bowden’s Malady,” he replied. “You know what that is?”

“Degenerative affliction of the bone and muscle,” Boyd answered.

“Every planet that’s been terraformed for human life has its own quirks,” the sheriff started on his explanation. “Turns out that mixing the air underground with ore processors makes a perfect recipe for Bowden’s. Everybody gets it: minors, miners, dumpers – hell, even I got it and I’ve never set foot in a mine. And as you can tell, it’s the worst on the kids.”

“But it’s treatable,” Boyd argued.

“There is a medicine,” the sheriff continued. “Pasceline D. It works on the symptoms. A person could live like a person if they got it regularly. But our shipment was stolen right off that train you were on, which is why you won’t be seeing any parades today.”

Doing his best at faking shocks, Derek asked: “Stolen? Wasn’t there an entire regiment of Hunter Federals on the train?”

“There was,” the sheriff replied. “That same regiment let the medicine get swiped from under their noses and then took off for their camp without so much as a whoopsie-daisy.”

“Sounds like Hunters,” Derek replied. “Uniting the planets under one rule, so everyone can be interfered or ignored equally.”

“The Hunters aren’t really that much use to us on border planets,” the sheriff admitted, “but they aren’t the ones that stole that medicine. I’m tellin’ you, when I find ‘em, I’ll toss ‘em in the mine and let ‘em breathe deep for the rest of their lives.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Derek responded. He really knows how to suppress worry.

“Can you tell me when it was you last spoke to Joey Bloggs?” the sheriff asked.

Even though Derek sensed a trap, he replied with: “I never spoke to him myself.”

“Right, your uncle,” sheriff remembered. “And it was indicated to you that he had an opening?”

“Any job would do …” Derek said.

“Funny how your uncle didn’t mention the Bowden’s problem. Or the fact that Joey died eight months ago.”

“He died?” Boyd asked, looking genuinely worried. “Was it Bowden’s?”

“Nope,” the sheriff answered, “he blew the back of his head off.”

After a long beat of silence, Derek finally spat out “Would his job be open, then?”

He knew he crossed a line as he saw the sheriff smirk. Now, whatever game they were playing, they were both aware of it, but none of them were willing to say it openly.

“I don’t suppose you’d mind if we took a retinal scan?” the sheriff asked. “We only do it with people we don’t know by sight, just to make sure they are who they say.”

_Well, crap_ , Derek and Boyd thought.

Bridge, Camaro, Paradiso

“That’s it!” Erica roared as she made her way to the bridge. “We waited long enough. Scott, get us in the air!”

“No ruttin’ way,” Scott stammered out, sitting in his pilot seat, Isaac standing next to him.

“Would you please calm down?” Jackson shouted from the hall while walking to the bridge. “Lydia is scared, so ple-”

“They ain’t comin’!” Erica roared again, flashing a bit of Beta yellow at them. “ _And_ we can’t just walk in there and get ‘em. Now fire. It. Up!”

Jackson looked really angry, and it seemed like he would explode at any moment.

“You alright, Jackson?” Isaac asked worryingly.

“Who gives a damn about what’s happening to Mr.RichGuy? We don’t have time to deal with him, or with his psycho-of-a-gir-”

She never finished that sentence because Jackson just scratched her across her face. She would normally be able to dodge it, but his swipe was fast even for werewolf reflexes. Also, she felt as if someone raked claws against her face instead of human fingernails.

But then she noticed she couldn’t move, and the collapse was unavoidable.

Everyone stared at them.

“Jackson, what was that?” Scott asked worryingly this time.

“Kanima venom,” Jackson explained. “It paralyzes any person with just a simple contact with it. But, if scratched in, then they stay paralyzed for hours. Since she’s a werewolf, however, I’d give her an hour until full rehabilitation.”

“I meant the claws,” Scott pointed out at Jackson’s hand, that was now clawless.

“I’m a kanima,” Jackson admitted. “Besides, why are you so surprised; you guys have claws, too.”

There was a moment of silence that was interrupted by Allison’s appearance.

“What’s going on? I’ve heard shouting an- Why is Erica paralyzed?” she asked as soon as she noticed her unmoving body on the ground, but no sign of scarring on her face, as it healed pretty quickly.

“Long story,” Scott and Isaac said in one voice.

“But she was right,” Scott then continued. “We need to get to Derek and Boyd somehow. We haven’t heard from them since the split-up.”

“And it’s not like we can just waltz in there,” Isaac concluded.

“Maybe someone respectable enough could do that,” Allison provided.

“Like who, the Druid?” Jackson asked. “They’d kick him out before he could say anything.”

“I wasn’t talking about him,” Allison hinted.

* * *

“You think our pack is still waiting for us?” Boyd asked Derek.

They were still in the police station, and it was night outside. The whole place still seemed to buzz with activity.

“If they are,” Derek replied, “then everyone’s fired.”

“And if they’re not?”

“Everyone’s fired.”

Boyd would’ve said something in return, if it weren’t for the sudden commotion. A deputy moved to the sheriff and apparently told him something interesting, because the sheriff reacted with surprise. And someone was pushing through the deputies.

It was Allison. Both Derek and Boyd reacted by staring for a couple of seconds before standing up as she was approaching them.

Derek just couldn’t believe it.

“What the he-”

He didn’t finish that sentence, because apparently she slapped him. Despite being a werewolf and being shot at a lot, it still hurt like a motherf-

“Don’t you dare speak to me!” Allison nearly roared. Turning to the sheriff that was behind her, she pointed a finger at Derek and added: “I want this man bound by law at once!”

But then she realized how bad of an impression she was making of herself.

“Presuming he hasn’t been already,” she sheepishly added.

“No-one’s been bound yet,” the sheriff informed her.

“Well, thank you for stopping them,” she thanked him. Turning to Derek, she continued with her charade.

“Did you _really_ think you could access my accounts without me finding out about it?” She was really good at faking anger, but she would never be able to lie to a werewolf. Unless she was trained into lying successfully to werewolves.

But that wasn’t the point at the moment.

“And Boyd,” she continued sadly, looking at him now, “what would Erica think about what you just did?”

Boyd looked down, stammering out: “I was … weak.”

“So I take it that they aren’t a couple?” the sheriff asked.

“Hardly,” Allison replied. “Derek here is my indentured man. With _three years_ on his debt.” Giving her best evil eye to Derek, she concluded with: “I think I’ll add _another_ six months for _this_ adventure.”

The deputies were staring at her in awe, whispering amongst themselves. Allison just glanced at them.

“You’ll have to pardon them,” the sheriff explained. “I don’t think they’ve seen a Registered Companion before, since ladies, such as yourself, don’t often pass through here.”

“I apologize for my manner,” Allison apologized.

“There’s no need,” the sheriff reassured her.

“Although,” Allison continued, “the idea of leaving them here is quite tempting, but since their debt isn’t that large … Will you need to hold them very much longer?”

“Looks to me that we’re done here,” the sheriff realized. “We’re having some unrelated trouble. Their story did have a kind of odor to it …”

“It’s not the only thing about them that does,” she replied, using a perfect application of sassiness to this situation.

“Thank you very much, Sheriff,” she thanked him. Turning to Derek and Boyd, she added: “Come along,” before leaving the station with them following behind her.


	7. Cargo bay, Camaro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING FOR A YEAR! Life and school happened.  
> I'll make it up to you with this chapter.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience (if you waited)!

“How’d it go?” Stiles asked as soon as Allison retrieved Derek and Boyd. Isaac was standing next to Stiles, curious at what the answer might be.

“She hit me,” Derek replied, pointing at Allison. For an alpha that he was, he sounded quite upset about it.

On the stairs they noticed Erica sprawled out on them like a floppy puppy. They had to step over her.

“She insisted on going to the infirmary herself,” Isaac explained. Derek just gave him an Eyebrow Movement No 4 – the ‘I don’t even wanna know’.

“We kept the engine running,” Isaac informed Derek, “so we’re good to go.”

“We’re not going.”

Everyone stared dumbly at Derek as he said those words out loud.

“Wha- why not?” Isaac asked immediately.

“Because we’re bringing the cargo back,” Derek explained.

“Whuddya mean back?” Erica slurred out. “I waited for you!”

“Let’s just get this on the mule,” Boyd offered, pointing at the crate. Derek walked to it and started pushing it onto the mule with Boyd’s help.

“But what about Gerard?” Isaac asked. “Won’t that put him in a more or less in a killing mood or something?”

Hitting a button that lowers the cargo bay ramp, Derek replied: “As far as Gerard goes, we’ll just have to explain that the job went south on us when we return the money.”

Derek noticed that everyone’s eyes are looking at something behind him.

“If you wanna explain,” Stiles said, pointing at the now open cargo bay ramp “now’s your chance.”

The moment Derek turned, following everyone’s gaze, he saw Crow and three other men who were just as large and pissed as Crow.

Walking up the ramp, Crow stated: “You didn’t make the rendezvous.”

“Ran into a few complications,” Derek explained, making a couple of steps forward.

“You were thinking of taking Gerard’s money and his property, maybe?” Crow hinted.

“Interestingly, neither,” Derek replied, hopefully confusing his opponent.

“I don’t understand …” Crow responded. The confusion tactic worked.

“Here’s what it is,” Derek stated. “The deal’s off. We changed our minds.”

“You entered in an arrangement with Gerard,” Crow told them. “There’s no mind changing.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Derek stated calmly. “We can’t take this job, so we’ll give you the money Gerard paid us up front, and you return it to him and call it even.”

“And there is no even,” Crow added.

“Is that right?” Derek mock-asked.

During their conversation, both of them were each reaching for their own weapon; Derek for his gun and Crow for his curved knife, which he just threw at Derek, successfully buried in his shoulder. That earned a howl from him, and whole hell went loose.

Boyd pulled his gun out to shoot on Crow’s companions as they stormed in, guns blazing. Crow pulled the knife out of Derek’s shoulder and slammed his fist into it, which earned him a werewolf-powered punch to the jaw.

Meanwhile, Boyd managed to shoot one. He then lunged at Isaac, pulling him down behind some cover as he successfully avoided getting hit by the return fire. Boyd then looked over to make sure Scott and Stiles were okay. Which they were.

Derek and Crow were still throwing punches at each other. They were so distracted that they didn’t seem to hear a roar of the mule that sent one of the thugs scattering to the floor. Scott was driving it.

Suddenly, Crow let out a scream in pain as a big hole appeared in the back of his leg. Wondering what’s going on, Derek looked up to see Erica holding her smoking gun in Crow’s direction.

“Nice shot,” Derek complimented on Erica’s action.

“I wuz aimin’ for tha head,” she slurred out angrily.

Everyone, except Erica, now ran up to Derek.

“Scott, Isaac,” Derek called them, “take care of these guys,” pointing at Crow and his companions. “Have Deaton look at Crow, but not until after you’ve tied him up.”

“Right,” Scott and Isaac replied in unison.

Which left Derek and Boyd with the crate that they have to return to people of Paradiso.

* * *

Derek and Boyd were on the mule all the way to the edge of Paradiso; Boyd was driving while Derek sat on the top of the crate for better view of his surroundings. The town becomes visible in the distance, so Derek tapped Boyd’s shoulder. He, in return, cut the engines and they got off and start on untying the crate.

“We’ll have to carry it from here,” Derek stated. “We can leave it just off the street and notify the sheriff once we’re in deep deep space.”

“Why don’t you tell him in person?”

It was the sheriff himself, accompanied by six co-workers. Derek didn’t want to fight, so he didn’t reach for his gun as he would normally do. He also motioned to Boyd to not do the same.

“We got a word,” the sheriff continued, “of a ship not far out, so we came looking. Didn’t expect to find you comin’ back, tho’.”

“Didn’t expect to be coming,” Derek admitted.

One of the deputies opened the crate and after checking it out, he replied an assuring: “Nothin’ missin’!”

Derek and the sheriff had a minor stare-down, but it was clearly out of understanding.

“You were truthful back in town,” the sheriff continued. “These are tough times; it’s hard to find yourself any work. A man can get a job and might not look at what that job is. But when a man learns all the details of a situation like ours, well, then, he makes a choice.”

“I don’t believe he does,” Derek replied in disbelief.

After a moment, the sheriff smiled slightly.

“Let’s get the crate back to town!” the sheriff ordered to his men.

They grabbed the crate and started carrying it back to Paradiso, the sheriff leaving without as much as a goodbye.

After a beat, Boyd climbed back on the mule and started turning it around.

* * *

Back at Camaro, the crew set Crow on his knees. He’s tied up, kneeling on a ramp, the engine behind him already whirring with life and creating some wind, sending sand everywhere.

Derek is standing before him, holding out some money.

“This is all the money Gerard paid us with in advance,” Derek shouted at him due to the loudness of the engine. “You give it back to him and tell him it didn’t work out. We’re not thieves.”

Everyone gives him weird looks.

“Well, we are thieves,” Derek explains, “but the point is, we’re not taking what’s his. We’ll do our best to stay out of his way from here on.”

Crow gets up from the kneeling position he was in.

“Keep the money,” Crow replied, anger evident not only from his tone and facial expression, but also the hormones that were coursing in him. “Use it to buy a funeral. It doesn’t matter where you go or how far you fly – I will hunt you down and the last thing you will see will be my blade.”

Derek had it enough with this guy, so he flashed his eyes red, picked Crow up and just said “Bummer”, before he threw him into the engine. It takes a couple of moments for the engine to get rid of the debris and function at its normal speed.

Derek now stepped towards the henchman closest to him.

“Now,” Derek started again, “this is the money that Gera-”

“I get it, I get it!” the henchman interrupts, fear evident everywhere on him. “Return the money, it didn’t work out; best for everyone.”

Derek smiles, puts the money in the henchman’s breast pocket, pats it – for good measure – and walks into Camaro’s cargo bay. If he noticed how Stiles was staring at him in fear, he didn’t comment about it.


	8. Infirmary, Camaro, Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the second story is done! It was written in a heat of the moment and therefore wasn't beta-proofed. So ... if you find any mistakes or plot holes or if anything doesn't make sense ...  
> ... let me know

“That was fast thinking, drugging Erica with kanima venom,” Derek praised Jackson. “Can’t say you’ve made a lifetime friend, though.”

“Nothing I can’t manage,” Jackson replied.

“How’s Lydia doing?”

“Same as before,” Jackson answered, looking at her through the infirmary/cargo bay window. “One moment she seems perfectly cogent, the next she speaks nonsense. I still don’t know what the Academy has done to her.”

Derek nodded in thanks and left Jackson to his own devices.

Engine room, Camaro

“Is Derek normally like that?” Stiles asked Isaac, who was doing some work on the engine.

“Like what?”

“Commanding, broody, does things without thinking about consequences, killing random people off …”

“I’m just trying to protect my pack,” Derek replied in a defensive tone, appearing out of nowhere. It results with Stiles flailing out of surprise, tripping over Isaac’s toolbox and landing on the floor with an audible thud.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Stiles berated Derek. “We talked about this! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Then you shouldn’t be talking about me behind my back,” Derek reasoned. “To answer your question: I’m commanding because someone has to lead this ship. Broody because sometimes people don’t listen to me when there’s no reason they shouldn’t. I always think about consequences, but you can’t expect me to predict all outcomes. And finally, I never just kill off some ‘random people’. I only kill the ones that are a threat to me, my pack and/or my crew, and even then as a last resort.”

“But killing Crow wasn’t a ‘last resort’,” Stiles countered.

“I only killed him because he wouldn’t cooperate,” Derek replied. “Besides, killing him managed not to only get rid of a threat, but also convinced his companions into cooperation.”

“It was effective, I’ll give you that,” Stiles agreed, “but you have to admit it was both cruel and unnecessary.”

“Will you two lovebirds stop bickering?” Isaac asked. “I’m trying to work here.”

“We’re not lovebirds!” Stiles and Derek replied in unison. Once they realized what they’ve done, they stared at each other for a couple of moments before looking away.

“Already talking in unison,” Isaac whispered to himself, knowing Derek could pick it up. “Cute.”

Police station, Paradiso, Regina

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” the sheriff apologized. “There’s always a crisi-”

“We’re not interested,” one of the two men replied.

“We’re here about a theft,” the other one added.

“If you mean the medicine,” the sheriff answered, “it was already returned to us.”

“We didn’t travel 86 million miles to track down a box of band-aids,” the first of the two replied. He pulled out an envelope, out of which he pulled two pictures.

“Do you recognize any of these two?” the other man asked the sheriff.

On the first picture was a Firefly-class spaceship. Camaro.

On the other, a picture of a girl in her late teens. Lydia Martin.


End file.
